


Fallen Knight

by Maiden_of_Asgard



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Dark Jedi - Freeform, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Ghosts, Galactic politics, Gratuitous Use of Expanded Universe Lore, Hallucinations, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Injured Rey, Obsessive Kylo Ren, Possessive Kylo Ren, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Renperor, Reylo - Freeform, Sith Shenanigans, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, The Dark Side is Dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-04-21 07:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14280342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiden_of_Asgard/pseuds/Maiden_of_Asgard
Summary: Supreme Leader Kylo Ren has hunted his little scavenger across the galaxy, and she has evaded him at every turn. Now Ren’s in the custody of the Resistance, and Rey is lost somewhere far from his reach, her mind closed to him, cocooned in Darkness.He’d begged her to let it all go - the Jedi, the Sith…If only she had listened.





	1. Chapter 1

> _ There is no emotion, there is peace. _
> 
> _ There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. _
> 
> _ There is no passion, there is serenity. _
> 
> _ There is no chaos, there is harmony. _
> 
> _ There is no death, there is the Force. _

 

The First Order’s latest raid on the rickety old Rebel outpost where Rey and some of the other remaining Resistance fighters were stationed had been a disaster - the base reduced to rubble, ships destroyed, intelligence lost.  _ Lives _ lost. 

It was her fault. 

She could not keep him out. Ben -  _ no, Kylo Ren _ \- was there at the edges of her mind, always. If she ever let her guard down, even for a breath, he was  _ there, _ the Force-bond surging to life to bring him to her. In her dreams, he came to her, whispering and taunting and offering her the galaxy… Rey no longer knew if it was actually  _ him, _ or just a product of her own tormented imagination. 

Exhaustion tore at her, dug into her very bones. It had been two years since Crait, two years since he’d made his offer aboard the  _ Supremacy,  _ two years since Rey had actually  _ seen _ the new Supreme Leader of the First Order. She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes, couldn’t afford to get caught off-guard. Too many people were counting on her. 

But it happened anyway. 

A ragged shrapnel gash on her thigh had become infected after their last skirmish with the First Order - it had taken over two weeks for the Resistance to get any medical supplies to the old Rebel base she’d retreated to with a handful of the others - and in her feverish delirium, she had almost  _ welcomed _ it when the bond flared up again, far too weak to control it. 

It had been, at that point, just over three months since he’d last managed to force his way past her barriers, and Rey lay sweating and immobile on her back as the anger rolled off of him in waves, blistering and suffocating. 

“Where are you?” he demanded, leather-gloved fists tightly clenched. 

She swallowed, tried to say something, or to block him out once again, but  _ Force, _ it was  _ so hot and so cold and she was so thirsty… _

It was only then that he seemed to realize her current state, and his long strides brought him to her side in a heartbeat. Rey blinked; it almost looked like he was glowing, a wavering white haze blurring around his form. “So,” he said, crouching by her cot as his lips turned downwards. “You crawled off to some trash heap to die, like an animal. Is that what you wanted, scavenger?”

The cool leather of his glove was almost a relief when he pressed his palm to her temple, his dark eyes radiating something very similar to hatred. “You chose this,” he spat. “You  _ deserve _ this.”

_ Please, _ Rey thought; she didn’t know what she was hoping for, really. Perhaps she thought that he could put her into a deep, dreamless sleep, or that he could take the pain away, or that he would just stay there with her for a few moments, because it had been  _ so long _ and denying the bond had eaten away at her, tearing and gnawing at her soul.

Kylo Ren closed his eyes for a moment in concentration, and when he opened them again, there was a flare of satisfaction in the blackness. “Yavin - 4,” he said, his tone so smug that, in ordinary circumstances, it would’ve given her enough motivation to push him away.

Then he was gone.

Two days later, a Resistance supply ship mysteriously managed to sneak past the First Order blockade around Coruscant, bringing supplies that undoubtedly saved her from an early grave.

The stormtroopers landed on Yavin - 4 only a day after that.

The  _ Millennium Falcon _ needed a co-pilot, but Rey wasn’t willing to risk it, not this time. He hadn’t sent his troops here for the base; they were here for  _ her. _ Kylo Ren was a man obsessed, and wherever she went, he was sure to follow. Han Solo’s ship only made her a more irresistible target. She would flee, and he would chase after her, and eventually he would catch her, and one of them would die. Until then, she could at least waste his time and resources.  _ That _ was the best she could offer the Resistance; her hopes of becoming a true Jedi Knight had died alongside Luke Skywalker. 

And so, she took the  _ Falcon _ into hyperspace alone, half-surprised that she hadn’t been blown to pieces before she left the moon’s atmosphere, for her senses were still dulled and hazy. Warning lights flickered, the result of a dozen repairs she hadn’t had the time or the supplies to make, and Rey tried to meditate as she careened across the Outer Rim, to regain some semblance of control over her frightened, angry spirit. 

_ There is no emotion, there is peace. _

_ There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. _

That was what the ancient Jedi texts that she’d taken from Ahch-To said, at least. 

But Rey could find no peace.

 

* * *

 

Starving, low on fuel, and with nowhere to go, Rey tried to harness the Force, closing her eyes and reaching out for anything that might give her answers.

_ Help me, _ she begged.  _ Save me.  _

And then, the treacherous thought:  _ I don’t want to die. _

_ There is no chaos, there is harmony. _

_ There is no death, there is the Force. _

_ I don’t want to die. _

 

* * *

 

When the nav system eventually malfunctioned, Rey was essentially flying blind, lost somewhere in the Outer Rim. She had managed to avoid the First Order so far, but she had no doubt that Kylo Ren was on the hunt; he was ruthless, and she was weakened prey. He would strike as soon as possible, while she was vulnerable. 

There was nothing left to lose. 

Closing her eyes, she tried to focus, to call the Force to her. Luke Skywalker had done this when he destroyed the Empire’s Death Star, she had been told.  _ Or was that only a legend? _ He had not been a very forthcoming Master during the short time she’d spent trying to convince him to train her. In any case, it was her only hope. For what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, there was nothing. Then, a tendril appeared, beckoning her forward.  _ This way, _ something told her.  _ Only a little further. _

A planet finally loomed into view, reddish-orange and severe. Rey could only hope that it was habitable. The  _ Falcon _ made an ungainly descent to the planet’s surface, which she discovered was pockmarked with caves and valleys. One such valley looked promising enough, sheltered by cliffs and the wizened remains of what might have once been trees, and she pulled into a landing. 

The planetary readings were… non-functioning. She slammed her palm on the dash, and the dial sprang to life - Type I air.  _ Breathable. _ Rey strapped a blaster to her side and stepped from the  _ Falcon _ hesitantly, unsure if she should trust the ship’s readings. Although, at this point, she didn’t have much of a choice. 

Red dust swirled around her boots as she emerged into the dry heat, somehow so similar and yet so different to the blazing deserts of Jakku. The air was unnaturally quiet, no movement except for an occasional cool wind whipping through the valley. It was eerie, and as she walked forward to explore, she pulled the blaster from its holster, frustrated to find it heavier than it should’ve been; gravity was stronger on whatever planet she’d found, it seemed. 

Tentatively, she tried to calm herself and reach out with the Force once again, but a curling blackness swept through her almost at once, choking and intoxicating, and Rey dropped to her knees, gasping for air. Dimly, she could hear Luke’s voice breaking though her mind, angry and disappointed.

_ “You went straight to the dark.” _

“No.” Her fingers dug into the dirt. Then, as reality became clearer, she screamed.  _ “No!” _

She picked herself up and quickly limped back onto the Falcon, her injured thigh stinging in protest as she struggled to adjust to the planet’s gravity.

_ “It offered something you needed, and you didn’t even try to stop yourself.” _

The cabin flickered to life at the flip of the switch, but even more alarms were blaring now - no fuel, no navigation, no comms.

Rey crumpled into a ball and cried.

 

* * *

 

Rey of Jakku was, first and foremost, a survivor. A  _ scavenger. _

And so, she forced herself back out of her ship, determined to do just that: survive. 

She tried to block out the Darkness swirling through the planet like lifeblood, just as she’d done with Kylo Ren. But Rey was weak and on the brink of collapse, and she was only able to mute it to a dull thrum. 

The planet, whatever it was, seemed to be mostly barren; she was too afraid of the planet’s powerful Force signature to reach out again in search for life-forms. Trudging up the side of the hill, she discovered that the shapes she had taken for old tree trunks were, in fact, some sort of crumbling old stone columns. 

So, it had been inhabited, then, at some point. That gave her hope. There was a primitive old water purification system onboard the  _ Falcon; _ if she could find a water source, she might have a chance.  _ And food, _ her growling stomach reminded her. It would have been better if she’d never gotten used to having enough to eat; back on Jakku, the pangs of hunger were a constant, easy enough to ignore as long as she was able to keep moving. 

The Resistance had taken that away from her. They had given her hope, a  _ purpose. _

_ False promises.  _

The last time she’d had a  _ true _ meal, more than just scrimped-together rations, had been aboard the  _ Supremacy. _ Kylo Ren had led her to his room and quietly ordered her to sit. Ignoring her questions, he had called for a droid to bring a tray, and then he had sat across from her and silently watched as she ate what was (and probably would be) the finest meal of her life, a strange, mournful sort of look in his eyes. 

Then, he had delivered her to his Master, and she hadn’t stopped running since.

A stab of something like pain throbbed in her chest, and she pushed the memories away, along with the emotions they inspired. Or at least, she tried. 

_ There is no emotion, there is peace. _

_ There is no passion, there is serenity. _

Cresting the hill, Rey brought her goggles to her eyes and peered towards the horizon, finding only more cliffs, caves, and dirt, none of which looked particularly promising. She decided that the cave nearest to her landing site was as good a place as any to explore, though she knew to be cautious; if caves were the primary source of shelter on this barren planet, then any life-forms that managed to survive here likely sought them out, as well. 

The face of the cliff was steep, but not entirely impassible, and Rey did her best to embrace the pain of her aching leg as she scrambled up to the mouth of the cave. It was actually something of a relief when she found that the cave was relatively shallow; she had no desire to come across monsters in the darkness. She hated the darkness. The rocks in the cave were rough and dry, and Rey surmised that she would likely have to get to a much lower elevation if she wanted to find water. She’d seen canyons far in the distance; perhaps they would lead to a river, or even a stream. All she needed was enough to keep her alive until…

_ Until what?  _ some inner voice whispered, taunting her.  _ Until the Resistance somehow manages to miraculously save the day? Until Kylo Ren comes calling? Maybe he’ll finish you this time. Maybe he’ll let this planet do it for him. _

A tear trickled down her cheek, and she furiously wiped it away.  _ I don’t  _ want _ the Resistance to come to rescue me,  _ she told herself.  _ Finn, Poe, Chewie… I  _ want _ them to stay far away. I want them to stay safe.  _

But she also wanted to live.

_ There is no chaos, there is harmony. _

There was enough water on the  _ Falcon _ to keep her going for three or four more days, and maybe more than that if she broke into the ship’s secondary coolant systems. She could filter it - it wouldn’t be  _ good,  _ but she’d managed on worse. 

Food was a different matter entirely. There were a couple of freeze-dried ration packs on the ship, but she had already been waiting as long as possible to use them, and she wouldn’t be able to make them stretch for much longer. While she held out hope for finding water in the lowground, nothing on this forsaken planet showed any signs of being edible. Perhaps if she found water, she would find animal or plant life alongside it. 

For the moment, however, Rey was too tired and too badly shaken to continue her search. She climbed back down from the cliff, deciding that it would be much safer to stay in the  _ Falcon. _ As much as it pained her to do so, she finally gave in and ate half a portion of one of the ration packs, and drank a bit of water with it, swishing it around in her mouth as long as possible in a vain effort to trick herself into thinking it was more. 

The wind outside was picking up as the night began to fall, and Rey secured the landers and the hatch and retreated to her bunk, crawling under her blankets. If she couldn’t explore, she might as well try to rest and conserve as much energy as possible. 

That night, she dreamed of Kylo Ren. He was chasing her, racing unmasked across the dunes of Jakku with surprising speed for one so tall, seemingly unencumbered by his heavy black clothing. She  _ almost _ managed to reach her hidey-hole and the staff waiting there when he caught her, his strong arms wrapping about her middle and ripping her from her feet. 

Briefly, she wondered why he wasn’t using the Force, and why she wasn’t using it, either. 

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” he said fiercely, hissing into her ear as he ignored her ferocious thrashing. “I would have  _ worshipped _ you.” Then she suddenly became aware of just how  _ close _ he was, his arms holding her firmly pressed against his chest, his nose brushing against her hair as he leaned his head against hers.  _ “Let me worship you.” _

His voice sent shivers down her spine, and Rey felt a dark heat begin to race through her veins, pooling in her center. She struggled against it, but it was a token struggle only, for it was there -  _ had always been there, hadn’t it? _ \- hidden away and barely-acknowledged. In her dreams, did it matter if she was too worn-down to deny it? Too  _ desperate? _

For she could tell that this was  _ only _ a dream, that he wasn’t there, not  _ really. _ In a way, it was almost... disappointing. She let her head fall back against his chest, sighing heavily. “Are you coming to find me, Ben?”

“Yes.”

There was something almost  _ comforting _ in that, even though it was only a dream, even though she was running across the galaxy to escape him, even though  _ Kylo Ren _ would surely destroy her if and when he  _ did _ manage catch up with her. 

But at least then, she wouldn’t die alone. 

And if, in her dreams, her mind wanted to conjure up a version of him that would hold her and cherish her,  _ well, _ Rey wasn’t going to fight it anymore. She had been fighting long enough. 

_ There is no passion, there is serenity. _

 

* * *

 

The rattling of the wind woke Rey around ten standard hours later. She could feel the planet’s energy swirling around her mind, flowing and ebbing, almost like a curious, conscious entity. Throwing up her barriers in a panic, Rey staggered from her bunk, making her way to the cockpit. The sun was beginning to rise, casting strange shadows across the pockmarked valley and cliffsides. 

_ There is nothing for me here,  _ she thought.  _ I have to go further.  _ The idea of leaving the  _ Millennium Falcon _ behind filled her with an immense feeling of dread, but she knew that she’d soon have no choice. It would be best to venture out now, while she did still have some of her strength. 

Rucksack swung over her shoulder and blaster in hand, Rey set off in the direction of one of the nearest canyons. The dry air of the planet was hot, save for the strangely-cold winds that occasionally ripped across the surface, and she forced herself to move at a slow pace; she couldn’t afford to overexert herself. 

It took her all morning to reach the canyon, and the afternoon was partly gone by the time she’d managed to identify a possible path down to the canyon floor. The terrain grew more rocky and uneven as the day progressed, and Rey’s dragging feet caused her to trip and stumble on more than one occasion. Despite her best efforts to retain moisture, she was soon drenched in a thin sheen of sweat, caked over with the red dust that seemed to cover every inch of the planet.

It almost felt like being buried alive. 

The canyon floor was empty, but she did find the twisted remains of what had once been trees, and this discovery gave her hope; she may not have found water  _ yet, _ but she was closer than she had been. Or, at least, that was what she told herself. 

When the blistering heat of the afternoon grew overwhelming, Rey took shelter in the shade of a rocky crag, reassuring herself that it was because she  _ chose _ to take a break, and not because she  _ had _ to do so. Legs crossed, she closed her eyes and attempted to meditate once again, though the planet’s deafening silence made it difficult to drown out the pounding of her own heart. 

_ There is no emotion, there is peace. _

What would Luke Skywalker have done? She couldn’t say; in the end, all he’d really left her with was the notion that the Jedi were a failure and that her power was something to be feared. And Rey was  _ afraid. _

Pushing thoughts of her disastrous, disappointing time on Ahch-To aside, Rey tried to picture somewhere pleasant, peaceful.  _ An island. _ Not Ahch-To - somewhere that was hers and hers alone, somewhere with vegetation, with water, somewhere  _ safe. _

_ “I see it.” _

It seemed that she could not escape him, even when the Force-bond was closed, and for a moment, Rey gave in to the memories. What  _ would _ Kylo Ren do, if he found himself in such a predicament? The image of him in the snow on Starkiller Base flitted across her mind, beating his fist against his bowcaster wound as he channeled his rage, his  _ pain. _ It had kept him conscious long enough to defeat Finn, and long enough for him to earn him the scar that now marred his pale face. It had kept him  _ alive. _

Uncapping one of her canteens, she allowed herself another mouthful of water. She closed her eyes again, picturing the last time she’d seen his face, furious and then triumphant as he’d loomed above her sickbed on Yavin - 4. Had it really only been a week or so ago? It felt like a lifetime, and the fact that she was not entirely sure how much time she’d spent flying blind through the Outer Rim worried her. 

Maybe it had been longer than she’d thought. 

_ “You’re not alone.” _

She pulled herself to her feet and continued along the canyon floor. 

 

* * *

 

Shortly before nightfall, Rey spotted a telltale glint of metal perched atop one of the cliffsides in the distance, gleaming from the falling rays of the sun, and her heart swelled with hope.  _ Perfect, _ she thought.  _ Something to scavenge. _ Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could imagine that she was back on Jakku.

It was too far away for her to reach before darkness fell, and she had no desire to be caught out in the open; she may not have  _ seen _ any life-forms yet, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t there. She found a small cave that was only a few meters off of the ground, and she managed to clamber up into it. Once she’d ensured that the shelter wasn’t already occupied, she curled up against the back wall, wrapping the blanket from her rucksack around her small form. 

_ You can do this, _ she told herself.  _ You are a survivor. You are strong in the Force. Your friends need you to keep fighting. You can do this. _

Eventually, she managed to fall into an exhausted slumber.

 

* * *

 

_ “Get up.” _

Rey’s head felt heavy, a pressing sense of darkness weighing on her limbs and on her mind, urging her to just give up and _ succumb. _ Why should she wake? What reason could there possibly be for her to keep  _ trying? _ There was a certain peace here, she felt it now. Why should she refuse it?

_ “Get up, scavenger.” _

Kylo Ren had always been demanding, even in her imagination. Forcing her bleary eyes open, Rey’s senses suddenly prickled with the awareness that she was no longer alone. A skittering sort of sound reached her ears, and in the dim morning light, she could make out half a dozen winding shapes making their way towards her across the stone floor. She scrambled to her feet, snatching her blaster from its holster; it seemed that this barren planet  _ did _ have life, after all. 

As her mind was dragged unwillingly back into wakefulness, Rey realized that she had seen these creatures before - or at least, she had seen a depiction of one as a holomonster on the dejarik table aboard the _Falcon._ _K’lor’slugs._ She wasn’t sure if these particular specimens were fully grown, and in fact, she had no idea how large they _could_ grow, but they looked willing and able to do significant damage, with sharp, bladelike legs lining their serpentine bodies and round, gaping mouths filled with rows and rows of pointed little teeth. 

And if memory served, they were also highly venomous; the last thing she needed right now was to end up poisoned. She quickly dispatched two with her blaster, and the remainder scurried back the way they’d come, evidently disappointed to find her such an unwilling victim. The blaster shook in her hands as she held it aimed at the cave’s entrance, and she realized then that  _ she _ was shaking.  _ Weakness. _

She took another sip from her canteen and tried to force herself into a state of calm, breathing deeply as she attempted to drown out her fears, the pain of her thigh and the ache in her belly, her terrible, terrible thirst…

_ There is no emotion, there is peace. _

Squaring her shoulders, she set off along her path once more, determined to reach her destination by midafternoon. 

 

* * *

 

She pictured herself on a beach as she trudged forward through the red dirt of the canyon floor, smiling and laughing with her friends. Rey had never  _ had _ friends before she’d fallen in with the Resistance, and they’d given her a sense of belonging like she never could’ve imagined in all of her solitary, lonely years on Jakku. She was certain she’d do anything, go to any lengths, if it would keep them safe.  _ Including using herself as bait for the insane, obsessive Supreme Leader of the First Order.  _

They hadn’t been happy when she’d decided to split up their little gang, but General Organa had been understanding. She might not be able to pinpoint exactly  _ why _ her son was so fixated on capturing the little Force-sensitive nobody from Jakku, but she knew better than any of the others the lengths that he was willing to go to in order to achieve his ends. Rey had ended up sneaking off in the night over a year ago to join a different Resistance base; it was wrong of her, she knew, to care slightly less about the lives of the other Resistance members than those of Finn and Poe and Chewie, but she did. 

And so, she pictured them all reunited again, happy and content as they dug their toes into the wet sand and looked out over the horizon. It would be bright and sunny, her dream island - nothing like the bleak dreariness of Ahch-To - and it would be covered with lush vegetation and fruiting trees and  _ flowers. _ She had seen flowers on Takodana. They were  _ beautiful. _

Would she ever see them again?

Finding a navigable path out of the canyon was no easy task, but Rey managed. As she grew closer and closer to that alluring glint of metal, that sign that  _ someone, _ at least, had been here before, her excitement increased. She could see now that it wasn’t just some old, downed ship, but rather a structure of some kind. A more-permanent settlement promised more plunder… she just hoped that it hadn’t been picked over too thoroughly already.

The structure turned out to be a clumping of ancient-looking buildings, all with a slightly rounded design; she wondered if it helped to resist the pull of the strong nightly winds. Old satellite dishes and receivers were bolted to most of the buildings, rusted and dented. The place certainly  _ looked _ long-abandoned, but Rey clutched her blaster tightly, just in case.  

Many of the doors had been wedged shut from layers upon layers of red dust, but she didn’t consider this to be much of an obstacle; in many ways, it reminded her of the windswept sand deposits of Jakku. She found a promising-looking building, slightly larger than the others, and set to work digging the door free, hoping dearly that she could find a way inside the place before night fell. She had no desire to encounter more k’lor’slugs, or whatever else might be on this accursed planet. 

It took several hours, and a new layer of sweat and grime had accumulated on Rey’s skin by the time she’d managed to clear the entryway of dirt and debris.  _ I would give anything for a ‘fresher,  _ she thought.  _ Anything. _ But she imagined her hopes were in vain; even if there was a refresher unit here, she would be shocked if there was any power left to keep the sonic operational, and if there was somehow a miraculous supply of water,  _ well, _ she wasn’t going to waste it on hygiene. 

The door was impossible to dislodge, so caked with dirt and rust were the hinges, and Rey struggled against it until she was near tears.  _ Please, _ she begged,  _ why can’t something go right, just this once?  _ After half an hour, she gave up on brute strength. It wasn’t going to work - physically, she was weaker than she’d been at any point in recent memory, and with the door so severely jammed, she wasn’t sure if even a towering brute like Kylo Ren could rip it free. 

But Kylo Ren wouldn’t bother with that, would he? He’d just blow it clean off its hinges.

She took a deep, steadying breath, bracing herself, for she knew with an absolute, dreadful sense of certainty that the planet’s Darkness would pounce at the opportunity to use her as a conduit. Really, though, she had no choice, not if she wanted to survive.

_ There is no death, there is the Force. _

That, in Rey’s opinion, wasn’t necessarily  _ true; _ death was very real, and it was coming for her. She could  _ feel _ it - this entire, dreadful planet sang out to her of death and decay and the need to struggle, to fight, to  _ live. _

_ To be stronger. _

Extending a shaking hand, she let down her barriers, calling on the Force within and around her, trying to draw on as little as possible. Her stomach twisted with nausea as a heady, cloying rush of power churned through her, throwing her off-guard. 

_ “You need a teacher.” _

Well, he’d been right about that, for she found it incredibly difficult to channel the teasing, whispering surge of energy into anything productive. In that moment, anger bloomed, mixed with fear and sadness and a profound sense of disappointment -  _ why had Luke not simply  _ listened _ to her? _ \- and she cried out as the door slammed open, pinpricks of blackness spotting across her vision.

Panting, Rey fell to her knees, closing her mind off again as quickly as possible. She felt sick, drained, but also… accomplished. The Force hadn’t  _ overtaken _ her, despite her fears and her doubts, and she had used  _ it.  _

She shoved herself to her feet, grasping her blaster in one hand and her glowrod in the other, a new wave of determination lending strength to her steps as she moved into the unexplored darkness. 

Rey of Jakku was a survivor, and she wasn’t going to just lay down and die in the dust of this barren world.  _ That, _ she knew with absolute certainty. 


	2. Chapter 2

“I will speak with the General.”

“You aren’t in any position to be making demands here, _Supreme Leader Ren.”_

Kylo Ren bared his teeth, glaring though the transparent ray shield. He’d hoped, somehow, that the traitor would’ve been dead by now, but apparently FN-2187 was incredibly lucky. _Pity._

Allowing himself to be captured by the Resistance had been… difficult. And of course, Hux had been against it from the start, droning on and on about ‘political image’ and ‘displays of weakness’; the general had been quickly put in his place. However much Hux may have hated his new Supreme Leader and what he regarded as Ren’s fanatic, occultish ways, he did respect power, and power was one thing that Kylo Ren had in droves. Still, putting himself in a position of vulnerability, even if calculated and temporary, went against his nature, and he did so only as a last resort.

He couldn’t find Rey.

A dark, twisted sense of satisfaction had swelled in his heart when he’d finally seen her through the bond that night on Yavin - 4, feverish and near-death, for her suffering was what she _deserved,_ a fitting punishment for her rejection. _Behold,_ some vengeful part of him hissed, _the noble would-be Jedi, hope of the Resistance, weak and afraid._

And he hated her for it, and for the way her glazed, dark eyes called to him even then, pleading and desperate. He hated her and he hated himself, because Kylo Ren could not let her go, couldn’t bear the thought of the connection between them shuttering for good. _Let the past die…_ but Rey wasn’t his past. She was the future. He’d _seen_ it.

When he’d ordered the change in formation that had allowed a Resistance ship to slip through one of the Core World blockades, it was only to keep her alive long enough for his troops to arrive on Yavin - 4 to claim her; he’d never expected her to be mobile again so quickly, not as close as she’d been to succumbing to infection. He’d certainly never imagined that she would manage to elude him once again.

When Rey and the _Falcon_ were nowhere to be found on the ravaged moon, he had gone into a rage, tearing the old Rebel base apart. Then, perhaps hoping that he was delivering good news, an underling had hesitantly informed him that an old Corellian freighter had managed to dodge through their line of assault. “But we did not think it necessary to break formation to offer pursuit, Supreme Leader,” he’d said. “It was in poor condition, and it did not seem likely to survive the jump into hyperspace intact. Any life-forms aboard that ship can be presumed dead.”

The satisfying sound of the unlucky captain’s skull cracking against the durasteel wall had done little to quell Kylo Ren’s vicious rage.

 

* * *

 

In the days that followed, he had tried time and time again to reach out through the bond to find her, even just a glimpse of her Force-signature. Even when she’d managed to block him out of her mind, he’d always been able to tell that she was still _there,_ lost and lonely somewhere out in the vast galaxy, waiting for him to find her. The first day after her escape, he’d still managed to feel a faint flicker.

Then… nothing. It was as if she’d simply _disappeared_ from existence, and the pain of it ripped a gaping, ravenous hole in his chest.

He’d quickly become convinced that it must be part of some Resistance plot, because Rey _couldn’t_ be dead, _couldn’t_ be gone. Paranoia ate away at him, his moods quickly becoming even more erratic and unstable. Hux and his other officers already kept their distance as much as possible, and now even his Knights of Ren seemed a bit on-edge in his presence. Maybe Skywalker was still alive, just as he’d feared in the years since Crait. Maybe they’d found a way to sever the bond for good. He couldn’t allow it.

The latest Resistance command center was, according to his spies’ reports, located on the sparsely-populated Mid Rim planet of Nakadia. This came as no surprise to him; _of course_ General Organa would flee to one of the New Republic’s only remaining Populist strongholds. Leaving Hux and his Knights with a detailed list of commands, he’d taken his personal starfighter down to the planet’s surface, a move that he felt was believable enough; the new Supreme Leader was well-known for his impulsivity.

And so, when he had followed the lure of Leia Organa’s Force-signature to the base and begun indiscriminately slaughtering the woefully-unprepared Resistance guards, it must have seemed suitably in-character, for instead of ensuring that they killed him outright as they _should,_ the Resistance instead incapacitated him and took him into custody.

Oh, it was evident that they were suspicious, but he didn’t care; he did not intend to waste any more time than necessary on this Republic farm-planet. In fact, once he had the answers he needed, he planned to burn the entire base to the ground. The planet itself, he would spare - the First Order could always use more subjugated worlds with fertile resources. He had troops to feed, after all.

He wondered how long ago General Organa had convinced her allies to begin construction of this base, for it was clearly designed to hold Force-sensitives at bay. Two olbio trees grew just outside the detention wing’s camouflaged walls, covered with scaly, Force-repellant ysalamiri; he hadn’t known that the creatures even _existed_ outside of their homeworld of Myrkr. Perhaps she’d always hoped to bring him here someday, to isolate him from the Force and remake him as the weak child he’d been in the days before he’d taken up the mantle of _Jedi Killer._ The thought made him sneer.

 _“Did you hear me, Kylo Ren?”_ His head snapped up, distracted from his musings by the irritating, outraged voice of the traitor. “Why are you here?”

“I was captured,” he replied flatly, staring at the slight flickering of the ray shield.

“That’s not what I _mean!”_

Kylo Ren ignored him, forcing all of his bubbling fury and loathing somewhere deep and hidden, somewhere he could contain it until it was needed. She had chosen these pathetic people, this _fool,_ over him. _Why?_

“There’s no point, Finn,” the traitor’s companion said then, patting him on the shoulder placatingly. “He’s completely insane. He’s not gonna talk unless someone makes him.”

Well, that wasn’t necessarily true. “I will speak with the General,” he repeated, and then he tuned out their hushed debate. General Organa wouldn’t be able to stay away, he was certain of it.

 

* * *

 

He estimated that it was around one standard day later when the leader of the Resistance finally appeared on the other side of the ray shield, looking even older and more worn than he’d imagined. The sight was unexpectedly unsettling, and he clenched his fists, schooling his features. _Don’t call me Ben,_ he thought. _Please._

“Well.” She paused, and he saw her own fingers clench around the saber she held at her side. _His_ saber. “To what do we owe the pleasure, _Supreme Leader_ Ren?”

His temper flared at her tone, which reminded him too strongly of the one she’d often used with his fath- with _Han Solo,_ and he swallowed thickly. “Where did you send the girl?”

“Rey?” Her eyes widened in surprise for just a moment, then narrowed, a sharp, calculating look taking form. He could almost believe it was genuine. “You came here looking for Rey? We lost contact with her after the First Order sacked the base on Yavin - 4.” Then, slightly smug, “You can’t find her.” It was a statement, not a question.

“She is gone from the Force,” he said, relishing the way that the satisfaction in General Organa’s eyes dimmed at the revelation. “Maybe she’s dead.”

“Maybe. But you wouldn’t be here if you believed that, would you?”

And there it was, her trump card, the notion that Kylo Ren was weak enough to form _attachments,_ equally abhorred by both the Jedi and the Sith. But he was not a Jedi, nor was he a Sith; he was something entirely new. Better. _Stronger._

If she’d had any sense, she would’ve ignited his saber and run it through his heart.

“She told you about the bond.”

“Yes.”

“Then you understand.”

The General’s fingers squeezed again on the hilt of his saber, and for a moment, she looked lost in thought. “The Force-bond your uncle and I have is… different. It wasn’t created by some outside influence.”

His hatred for the scavenger curled deeper in his heart at the reminder that she’d come to view their connection as something unnatural, abominable. “Snoke didn’t create the bond, whatever she may have told you. It was always there.”

_I feel it, too._

“I convinced Han that there was still good in you,” she said. “And then you killed him. With this.” She ignited his saber, studying the crackling crimson blade with an almost-unnerving expression of calm; but then, even for one with little formal training, Leia Organa had always been naturally gifted at resisting the pull of the Dark. “Temperamental and unrefined, just like you,” she remarked, switching the blade back off. “If you think I’ll let you use her as another one of your _sacrifices,_ Ben, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Kylo Ren grimaced; how _dare_ she speak to him of sacrifices? _He_ had been sacrificed at birth to her political aspirations, to the Skywalker legacy, to the zealous hypocrisy of the Jedi. And as for Rey…  But then, he had another, darker thought. “Did _you_ sacrifice her first then, General? To thwart me?”

General Organa frowned, as if appalled by the idea; a laughable act, in his opinion - his ruthlessness was an inherited trait, and so was hers. It was why they both felt the constant pull of battle, scrambling for peace and order in the galaxy when they both truly thrived in the chaos that preceded it. “No, Kylo Ren. I’m not _like_ you.”

Then, she turned and walked away, leaving him alone to fester in his wrath and his loneliness.

 

* * *

 

He had given his Knights orders to wait three weeks before they extracted him, unless he got word to them of a change in plans. They were the only ones he’d entrusted with the exact location of his mission, for they were all too fiercely loyal to veer from his instructions. Had General Hux known exactly where the Resistance base that currently housed both General Organa and Supreme Leader Kylo Ren was located, he undoubtedly would have ordered a full-out assault on the entire planet in the hopes of eliminating all of his problems in one fell swoop.

In the meantime, Kylo Ren intended to find out _exactly_ what General Organa and her Resistance scum were planning. He didn’t believe for one moment that she’d simply allowed her little Jedi recruit to wander off into unknown space on her own, and he was determined to find out just _where_ she’d sent Rey, and how she had managed to sever the bond. It helped that the traitor FN-2187 and the pilot Dameron seemed desperate to prize some sort of information from him about the scavenger, what he’d done to her, why she was so _special_ to him.

_As if they could ever understand._

“Why do you want to kill her so badly?” the traitor demanded one night, just after his evening meal had been delivered. The sight of the fresh produce, even though he was _clearly_ being fed lesser rations, made his stomach twist as he thought back to Rey’s frail form on Yavin - 4. They had left her bleeding and starving in an old, isolated base, while they had _this._

He cocked his head, regarding the former stormtrooper though the shield. “I don’t plan to kill her.”

“To turn her to the Dark Side, then? To make her your apprentice? She’s too good - she will _never_ join you.”

Possessiveness flared through his veins, and his jaw tightened. Leaving his meal aside, he approached the shield, towering and poised to strike. “If I _want_ her, traitor,” he said evenly, “then I will _have_ her.” To twist the knife deeper, he added, “And I will _use_ her in _any_ way I see fit.”

FN-2187 glared at him for a brief moment in confusion, then understanding flickered across his face. “You’re disgusting,” he spat. _“Evil.”_

And then, her voice trickled forth from his memories. _“You are a monster.”_

“Yes,” he said, answering both of them at once. “I am.”

 

* * *

 

Maybe if he’d done things differently, he wouldn’t be in this mess. Maybe he should have been less gentle when he’d first taken her from the Resistance. Maybe he should’ve done more attacking and less defending on Starkiller Base. Maybe he should’ve choked her into submission onboard the _Supremacy,_ instead of offering her his hand, begging like a pathetic child.

Maybe then, she wouldn’t have thought that he was weak enough to let her keep running away from him forever.

Because if she understood, _truly_ understood the lengths he would go to in order to bring her back to his side, well, how could she deny him?

And she _had_ denied him.

Kylo Ren paced in his cell, feeling every bit like the caged animal that he was. It was nigh-impossible for him to harness the Force while in such close proximity to the ysalamiri, but something in him insisted that he’d still be able to feel her, if she was out there somewhere.

He couldn’t.

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed the boundaries of the Bond so forcefully, so soon. Maybe if he’d shown more restraint, she would not have feared it so greatly. Maybe she would’ve come to view it as a blessing, a gift, something truly remarkable.

_Just like her._

The look in her eyes when the Resistance fled Crait was... empty. It was a look that said she simply didn’t _care_ anymore about Kylo Ren or Ben Solo or whoever she thought he was behind the mask. But it was a lie.

Of course, he’d started throwing himself against the bond almost immediately, betrayed and broken and determined to make her pay. The little scavenger had done an impressive job of keeping him out most of the time, especially considering her lack of formal training. He told himself to be patient; the Force had connected them before, hadn’t it, even when neither of them were actively trying? He had faith that it would do so again.

And then, she had begun to slip up.

It usually happened when she was feeling especially lonely, or when her self-doubt and disappointment consumed her. The first time he saw her again, she was alone, her back turned to him, staring into nothingness. At least, it _looked_ like nothingness; in those days, he was still unable to see any of her surroundings.

Kylo Ren didn’t know what to _do,_ at first, so taken aback was he by his sudden success, and so he simply stood behind her for a moment, fists clenched. Could she not sense him? He could practically _taste_ her distress. Her shoulders were shaking, he noticed then, and a strange pang of emotion spiked through his chest.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, the demand coming out softer than he might’ve hoped.

Her back stiffened, and she spun to face him, wiping her cheeks furiously. Rey was… _crying._ She had been crying the last time he’d seen her in person, too, as she tore all of his hopes away onboard the _Supremacy._ In fact, he’d only ever really seen her either on the verge of tears, or in a chaotic fury. It was satisfying, in a way, to know that she still struggled so greatly with principles of the Light that she chose to pursue so relentlessly. _Bad little Jedi._

“My reflection,” she’d replied, taking him by surprise. He’d expected her to be more reluctant to speak with him, after the way things had ended.

“Ah. It reminds you of the cave. Your great search for _belonging.”_ He’d practically spat the word; there was no need for any of this; she belonged with _him._ She had no one to blame but herself. And yet…

“It reminds me of the night we touched hands. I thought… I thought the Force had brought me into this war to save you. That maybe that was my purpose in all this.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “But I was wrong.”

“You were.” He’d still been gentler, back then, still affected by her tears, and the defeat in her eyes caused his chest to clench. “Come back to me, and I will spare them.”

It was, in Kylo Ren’s opinion, a generous offer - certainly more than the Resistance deserved. Of course, even _he_ hadn’t been sure of how _sincere_ of an offer it was, but in the moment, he believed that he’d meant it. But his fiery little dunecat certainly hadn’t seemed to think so.

“We will _never_ let the Dark win.” Her sadness was gone then, replaced by anger; this too, he understood, for he also took solace in his fury, in his self-righteousness.

“This isn’t _about_ the Dark or the Light!”

“Then what is it about, _Kylo Ren?”_

“Balance.”

She’d faded away then, her forehead creased in a puzzled frown, and Kylo Ren, feeling decidedly _un_ balanced, had split his knuckles against the durasteel wall of his bedroom.

They’d kept happening for a short time, these sporadic little _chats_ of theirs. Sometimes he would threaten, sometimes she would. He’d try to find out her location, straining to keep his temper in check _just_ enough that she wouldn’t try as hard to block him out. It grew more and more difficult as the First Order’s control tightened, spreading rapidly and efficiently across the galaxy; as her inner turmoil and desperation increased, so did his.

The first time he’d been able to see more than just her body, she’d been almost… happy, or _peaceful,_ at the very least, which was just as rare. He was always, _always_ waiting for the bond to activate, but it never failed to surprise him when he actually managed to reach her. The girl was sprawled across her narrow bed, a loose tunic barely reaching halfway down her thighs, and at first, he’d thought that she must be asleep.

He stood there for a moment, tense and conflicted, puzzled as to why the Force would bridge them when she wasn’t even conscious. But then her eyes cracked open, and she stared at him suspiciously. “Are you _really_ Kylo Ren?” she asked, speech slightly slurred, “Or is this just a dream?”

Drunk. The little scavenger was _drunk._ He supposed he could guess as to the reason why - one of the First Order’s outposts on Espirion had been blown to pieces around ten standard hours earlier. It wasn’t that significant of a blow, really, but he supposed the Resistance must be desperate to celebrate any petty victory they could.

“Just a dream.”

She’d nodded sleepily, seeming to accept that easily enough. He had begun to suspect that she spent so much time trying to block him out of her head that she still wasn’t able to really sense his emotions when they were connected, at least, not like he could sense _hers._ Right then, she felt… well, _content._ Did she really dream of him often enough that it didn’t set off some sort of warning?

Tentatively, he had moved to sit beside her on the bed, his tall frame making the thing seem impossibly narrow. He glanced around them, trying to find any signs of _where_ she was, but the edges were blurred, a strange half-mixture of his room and darkness. Something brushed his fingers, and he jumped; it was only her hand.

“Don’t worry, Ben,” she’d said, smiling faintly as her eyes fluttered closed. Kylo Ren had recoiled at that, horrified.

Collecting himself, he placed a light hand on her cheek, and as he’d pried into her slumbering mind, he’d found what he was looking for: the girl was H’ratth, along with the rest of her traitorous friends.

For a few lingering moments, he’d simply sat there and watched her peaceful face as she slept. Then, he’d ordered for his fleet to set course for the Inner Rim as soon as the bond had faded.

And as they’d streaked into the space outside the forest planet’s orbit only a few standard hours later, he’d felt _her_ trying to force the connection for once, first pleading and tentative, then furious.

_“Ben?”_

_“Ben!”_

He’d ignored it.  

 

* * *

 

Most of the Resistance had managed to escape H’ratth, mostly due to the Supreme Leader’s insistence that ground troops be sent in, rather than allowing Hux to simply blow the whole base up from the sky. She was so close, he could _feel_ her. Evidently, she could feel him, too, for she managed to get Han Solo’s piece-of-junk freighter into the air before he’d been able to apprehend her.

After that, Rey seemed to have realized just how big of a vulnerability their bond was for the Resistance. She’d tried more valiantly to keep him out, and he’d become more aggressive in his pursuit; and in fact, it seemed as though the more they connected, the easier it was for him to find her. Kylo Ren was convinced that the Force was guiding his hand - if only she could be made to understand that.

 

* * *

 

“Some of the higher-ups want to negotiate with the First Order to exchange you back for some of ours,” the pilot said casually, watching him through the ray shield, arms crossed in a pathetically obvious display of defensiveness.

 _Dameron_ \- for he remembered now that was the pilot’s name - seemed every bit as rash and cocky now as he had been when they’d first run into one another back on Jakku, and after several days of near-constant exposure, Kylo’s already-fraying patience was ready to snap. “Does it bother you,” he said slowly, “to know that you’re the only reason I’m even aware that she exists?”

He saw the man flinch slightly, but he carried on as if he hadn’t heard. “Finn convinced General Organa that it’d be a terrible idea. Apparently, you were never very popular with some of Snoke’s other cronies. He thinks that if we tell them we have you, they’d be happy to take you out along with the rest of us.”

Kylo Ren said nothing.

“I guess you just don’t make friends easily, huh? Is that why you’ve been chasing after Rey - is it _lonelier_ at the top than you’d imagined?”

His eyes narrowed; how much had she told them? “There’s a reason I’m called _Jedi Killer.”_

“Personally,” Dameron said, stepping closer to the shield, “I’d be happy if we froze you in carbonite and jettisoned you into the Deep Core. Seems fitting.”

“I thought the Resistance clung to the ideals of _peace_ and _mercy.”_

“You know, my parents fought in the Rebellion, just like yours. I think we both know that peace comes at a _price,_ and getting rid of you is a price I’d be more than willing to pay.”

Kylo Ren grit his teeth, wishing dearly for his saber. Instead, he simply turned his back to the shield and closed his eyes, brooding over the retribution he intended to inflict on all of those who dared to taunt him, who _dared_ to oppose him. _Including Rey,_ he decided, who had resisted him for far too long; she would either bend, or she would _break._

If Dameron said anything after that, he was far too lost in his own darkly-swirling thoughts to hear it.

 

* * *

 

The lights in his containment unit were kept at the exact same level all day and all night, and his meals seemed to be evenly spaced apart. He assumed that this was in an effort to keep him from telling how many days had passed, in order to thwart any plans for escape. It was clever, he’d give them that, and it seemed to be working.

Or, perhaps, it was the lack of sleep finally catching up to him, now that he could not freely draw upon the Force to sustain himself. In the years since he’d taken the mantle of Supreme Leader, Kylo Ren had found sleep to be a cruel, evasive thing, and he had eventually decided that he was better off not even trying to find any sort of peaceful slumber; he had other things to occupy his time, after all.

And so, he had slowly grown accustomed to the numb throb of exhaustion, and the agitated sort of excitement that came from using the Force to push his body far past its own limits. If anyone noticed or cared that his face grew pale and wan, or that his eyes became little more than dark hollows, well, they certainly weren’t going to risk mentioning it.

But now, trapped in this loathsome Resistance base, Kylo simply could not keep going, and the lack of power to sustain him hit him as strongly as a spice withdrawal. For days (or what felt like days), he tried to stay alert; how could he afford to let his guard down here, of all places?

Eventually, too stubborn to give in and lie down upon the narrow cot in his cell, he’d simply fainted.

 

* * *

 

He dreamed she was dead, bloody and broken in his arms, and her eyes, usually so full of life, were empty and dull.

He woke up screaming, crumpled in a ball on the durasteel floor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this idea stuck in my head for a while, so it's exciting to finally start working on it!  
> Join me... please. ;)
> 
>  


	3. Chapter 3

The dark, circular building appeared to be the remnants of an old tavern, based on what Rey’s glowstick was able to illuminate. There was a dust-covered, half-collapsed old countertop along one wall, and scattered tables and chairs littered the rest of the space. Lowering her light, she was relieved to find that the dusty floor was smooth and free of any footprints or markings, save for her own. Maybe she’d found somewhere safe to stay for the night, at least, if she could manage to re-secure the door. She would have to use the Force again, and the thought made her stomach churn. 

The place had clearly been picked-over at least once before, which was a disappointment; when she rounded the counter, she found smashed remnants of a few bottles and plates, and the image her mind conjured up of the place bustling with customers and the smell of food and drink nearly caused her to weep. 

_ But,  _ she tried to comfort herself,  _ anything left here would’ve likely rotted away years ago.  _ For Rey was nearly certain now that this place hadn’t seen any signs of life for maybe a century, at least. 

And what  _ was _ this place? What was this  _ planet? _

There was a rusted old sign discarded against the wall near the counter, which she assumed must’ve once hung outside. She crouched beside it, brushing away sand and grit, frowning as the Basic letters came into view:  _ The Drunk Side. _

_ What a stupid name, _ Rey thought dismissively, abandoning the sign to continue following the wall. There  _ was _ a grimy old refresher, she discovered, though the sonic had conked out long ago. Frustrated, she yanked open the next door she found. Surely there was  _ something  _ here worth her time. 

It was a storage closet, or likely  _ had  _ been, for there certainly not much left to be stored. The only thing she managed to salvage from it was a hollow durasteel pipe, roughly the thickness and length of her old staff, though quite a bit heavier. 

_ Or maybe it only feels heavier because you are so weak, _ her inner voice whispered, mocking and insidious. She curled her fist around the cold metal, filled with self-loathing. But no, she told herself, this was not  _ her _ fault. It was Kylo Ren’s.

The dust around her began to swirl, and Rey started in surprise, realizing that her emotions were beginning to seep past the barriers that she’d worked so long to build. Squeezing her eyes closed, she took a few deep breaths, inhaling through her nose and exhaling though her mouth, just as she’d been taught during her short-lived training.  _ In, out. _

_ In, out. _

_ There is no chaos, there is harmony. _

_ In, out. _

When she opened her eyes, the dust had settled, and her shoulders sagged in relief.  _ It’s just this planet, _ she told herself.  _ I just have to be careful, that’s all. _

But even so, Luke Skywalker’s voice rang in her ears as she sank to the floor, propping herself against the wall as she dug through her rucksack:  _ “You went straight to the dark.” _

“If you had just  _ shown _ me to way to the Light,” she said aloud, for it wasn’t as if there was anyone in this wretched place to overhear her, “then I would have  _ known.” _ He had told her to reach out and feel the Force around her, and that was what she had done; it was hardly  _ her _ fault that he’d decided to settle down as a hermit on an island that sat atop a well of powerful Darkness. 

“And  _ maybe,”  _ she continued, voice bitter, “if you had been a better teacher, Kylo Ren wouldn’t exist.  _ Maybe _ you wouldn’t have been the last Jedi.”

The thought was incredibly sobering, and some of her irritation quieted, overtaken by a profound sense of sadness. As far as she knew, the last remnants of the Jedi Order were now crammed in her rucksack. 

_ Her, _ the scavenger nobody from Jakku. Thousands upon thousands of years of tradition and history and knowledge, and now she was responsible for all that was left. She didn’t know whether that should make her laugh or cry; she felt dangerously close to doing both.

_ “You come from nothing. You’re nothing.” _

But not to him. No, she was certainly  _ something _ to Kylo Ren, something that people had  _ died _ for. Maybe if she  _ was _ nothing to him, she wouldn’t be here now, dying alone. Or maybe she would’ve been long dead already, disposed of as easily as so many others who stood in the Supreme Leader’s way.

She couldn’t afford to cry, not here, not now. Stubbornly, she wiped at her eyes, then she unwrapped one of her ration packs, gnawing at the unappetizing, dry chunk of protein; it tasted like… well, she wasn’t entirely sure. Nothing appealing, that was for certain. Rey scoffed at the thought.  _ Since when do you care about things as luxurious as taste? _ The only thing that really mattered was survival.

The protein bar she followed up with another few sips of water, and then she simply sat against the wall for a few minutes more, eyes closed, listening to the faint, creaking sounds of the wind catching on some of the metal sheeting outside. She estimated that she likely still had a few hours before the sun set, and she urged herself to get up and explore the rest of the structure, but she was so  _ tired, _ and her body felt heavy and uncooperative. 

She must’ve fallen asleep, for she suddenly heard a sibilant voice calling to her, almost masked entirely by the whisper of the wind.  _ “Scavenger…” _

Rey started awake, scrambling for her blaster and her glowstick, which had either died or gone into hibernation mode. Her frantic appraisal of the room found nothing amiss - save for the fact that she’d apparently been asleep for several hours. The sun was nearly gone, with only the faintest hints of orange streaking across the blood-red dust of the planet and in through the doorway. 

The doorway that she’d so carelessly left open, exposing herself to the elements. 

Cursing, she shoved herself to her feet, relieved to find that her glowstick was still operational. She tucked it and her blaster into her belt, glaring at the heavy door as if it had personally wronged her. It appeared the hinges were just as jammed as they’d been before; she’d hoped that her forceful entry might have made things easier, but she had no such luck. 

There was no choice. If she wanted to be sealed in her securely for the night, she was going to have to use the Force again. Rey rubbed her tired eyes, wondering if it was  _ worth _ it; after all, she’d only have to do the same to get out of her shelter when morning came, and every time she drew upon the Force was another opportunity for the Dark of this dead planet to sink into her. Equally worrisome, it increased the chances of Kylo Ren finding her.

Or  _ was _ that equally worrisome? She frowned, wondering when the prospect of falling into the clutches of Supreme Leader Kylo Ren had begun to seem like the lesser of two evils. 

_ Would you rather die here, alone and forgotten?  _ a voice whispered in her mind.  _ Left to crumble and decay into dust, just like those books you carry? Into nothingness. _

She shuddered, suddenly feeling extremely cold and small and alone, and she raised her hands to the door, picturing Kylo Ren’s face, for who else had made her feel both so  _ meaningless  _ and yet so  _ significant? _

“I am  _ not _ nothing,” she said viciously, and the power burned in her veins as she let it go, slamming the door closed with so much force that it nearly dented. This time, she merely staggered as the Darkness of the planet tugged at her, clawed at her, and Rey closed herself off as quickly as she could, struggling to catch her breath. 

_ There is no death, there is the Force. _

The more she repeated the mantra, the less comfort it gave her.

Dragging her meager belongings behind the counter, she curled up into a ball, her blanket tightly wrapped around her. The weight of sleep threatened to envelop her, and Rey found it nearly impossible to resist. Her head began to nod, when suddenly she heard a voice hissing through the air around her.

_ “Why are you running, Rey?” _

Her blood ran cold, and she forced her drooping eyelids open, peering about the darkness of the room. No one was there. She was alone; it must’ve been her imagination, or perhaps she simply hadn’t realized that she’d already fallen asleep and begun to dream. 

But then she heard it again and again and again, and she squeezed her eyes closed, pressing her hands over her ears in a vain attempt to drown out the mocking, unidentifiable voice that somehow seemed to be coming both from all around her and from within her.

_ “Why are you running, Rey?” _

 

* * *

 

When she opened her eyes again, she decided that she must have only dozed off for a few moments, for the faint rays of crimson light seeping around the doorframe indicated that the sun was just beginning to make its final descent below the horizon. And yet… she licked her cracked lips, wondering why she was so  _ thirsty; _ she’d just had something to drink a short while ago, hadn’t she?

Was she even further along in her deterioration than she’d realized? Rey pushed herself up, but her vision swam, and she fell back on her side, groping in the darkness for one of her canteens, which she promptly drained. It wasn’t enough - at this point, she wasn’t sure if an entire  _ lake _ would be enough - but she had to do  _ something. _

How long could she make the remainder last? Two days, maybe? She’d managed to be incredibly frugal with her water so far, but the effort was killing her, and quickly. 

_ Two days to live,  _ she told herself, and then she curled into a ball and silently sobbed, unable to manage even a single tear.

 

* * *

 

“The Force never meant for us to be apart, Rey,” Kylo Ren said with surprising gentleness, his gloved fingers brushing her filthy, sweaty hair from her face. He, in contrast, looked perfect -  _ too _ perfect, his skin smooth and unmarred, hair exactly in place. Just like he’d been before their battle on Starkiller Base. 

Her eyes narrowed. “Where is your scar?” she rasped, her throat on fire. 

His lip twitched. “You haven’t given it to me yet.”

“But I will.”

“Yes. You can’t resist. You know how  _ good _ it will feel to hurt me, to unleash your anger. Don’t you?”

“It did. I wanted to kill you.”

“I know.” He was almost smiling, though it didn’t manage to reach his eyes. “You still do.”

“I don’t…” Rey faltered, because  _ yes, _ she should want him dead and gone, but the thought of never seeing him again tore a strange sort of hole in her chest. “I don’t  _ want _ you dead,” she finally said. “I just want this to end.”

“There is no end,  _ little Jedi. _ The eternal struggle is what feeds us, what gives us power. Only the Force can set you free.”

“I am not a Jedi,” she said slowly, something about his eyes making her skin crawl. “And you… you are  _ not _ Kylo Ren.”

He laughed, a harsh, grating sound, and Rey woke up drenched in cold sweat, clutching at her pounding head.  _ It’s not real,  _ she chanted in her head, over and over again.  _ It’s not real. _

 

* * *

 

When she estimated that it was early morning, Rey pushed herself to her feet, using her newly-scavenged durasteel pipe as a staff. She continued poking about the tavern for a bit, but the pickings were slim; the only thing she found that  _ might _ prove useful was an empty canteen, but she decided that if she did manage to find water, it would be smart to have as many ways to capture it as possible. 

From the outside, the tavern appeared to be connected to the rest of the settlement, which Rey was equally determined to explore. However, the door that she was  _ nearly _ certain would allow her entry to the rest of the structure was sealed shut. 

_ I hate this place,  _ she thought bitterly, and then she took a deep breath and ripped it open with the Force. The crawl of power through her veins and her nerves was almost… soothing. Her heart was racing, and she looked down at her shaking fingers, somehow feeling extremely far away from herself, a dull ringing in her ears. 

And then the Dark came, sweet and overwhelming, sliding across her senses and whispering encouragement.  _ Stop,  _ she told herself,  _ this isn’t what you want.  _

Oh, but it  _ was, _ wasn’t it? To have the power to  _ do _ something, to  _ be _ someone, to become  _ significant. _

“No,” Rey said aloud, shaking her head, her movements worryingly slow and dull. “That isn’t true.”

“Have you lost your way, little Jedi?” Kylo Ren’s voice slid across her cheek, and she could practically  _ feel _ him looming behind her, but when she shrieked and spun around, no one was there. 

The beating of her heart was a crushing, furious thing, and she clutched at her chest, gasping for breath. However, her blind panic  _ did  _ have the effect of providing her with enough clarity to push away from the Force, and she could have  _ sworn _ she heard a mocking laugh as she did so. 

She did her best to ignore it. 

_ There is no chaos, there is harmony,  _ she told herself, trying to steel herself against her swirling emotions and rising terror. 

And as she walked into yet another unexplored darkness, she tried to push away the insistent thought that it was a  _ lie.  _

 

* * *

 

Dust and debris littered all of the rooms that she trudged through, leaning heavily on her durasteel staff. She did come across a few credit chips - or at least, she  _ thought _ that was what they must be. The old Imperial credit chips she’d come across during her scavenging on Jakku had been wider, gold-colored rectangles with rounded corners, while these were smaller and silver. 

_ Has no one been to this place since before the time of the Galactic Empire?  _ she wondered, highly disturbed by the thought. Shoving them into her bag, she told herself that she could ask someone about them when she made it back to civilization.

_ If _ she made it back to civilization.

After an hour or so of poking around and growing increasingly distressed as she found nothing of use, Rey decided that her only option was to move on; she couldn’t afford to waste anymore time here, not when she was so close to succumbing already.

_ Keep going,  _ she told herself.  _ If you don’t stop, you’ll make it out of this, you just have to keep moving forward and don’t look back.  _

The thought of going back to the tavern and using the Force to open the door to the outside once again did not sit well with her, so she decided to find an alternate exit. Her new staff proved to be a useful find, at least, and she was able to use it to pry open an old, rusty window covering, barely wide enough to admit her slender form. Rey tumbled into a heap in the dust outside, her reflexes too slow to permit her a graceful landing. 

_ “Kark,” _ she hissed as pain shot through her leg, and she scrambled to her feet, clutching at her thigh, horrified to see a crimson stain spreading across her trousers.  _ It was healed,  _ she thought, staring at it in disbelief.  _ The bacta patch took care of it… _ She blinked, and the blood disappeared, though the pain lingered, just as fresh and raw as it had been all those days ago, when Kylo Ren had last come to her through their bond.

She rubbed her palm against the dry fabric of her pants anxiously, glancing around the abandoned settlement as a strong sense of paranoia clutched at her chest. Was this  _ his _ doing? Was  _ this _ the punishment for abandoning him, for trying to escape the bond - to be driven to madness, slowly, painfully, terribly alone? 

“No,” she firmly announced to the emptiness around her, wrapping her thin, shaking fingers tightly around her staff. “He doesn’t know where I am. If he did, he would be here. The whole First Order would be here.” She tried to say it almost jokingly, in a vain attempt to lighten her mood - it did not work. Instead, she wondered once again if maybe he’d decided that she really was nothing to  _ him, _ either. 

_ There is no emotion, there is peace. _

Leaning heavily on her staff, she began to drag her tired body towards the horizon, trying to picture her island as the wind-whipped grit stung at her eyes and exposed skin. 

_ You’ll see flowers again someday, Rey,  _ she told herself, blinking back tears that never came.  _ You will. _

 

* * *

 

She stayed near the edge of the canyon rim, deciding that it offered her a better view of her surroundings. If she did manage to spot anything of interest down below, she was certain that she could find a path down to the bottom. At least, that was what she told herself; in truth, the thought of climbing in and out of the canyon again filled her with dread.

A day passed of terrible, lonely nothingness, baking in the sun, barely staggering along as the rocks and distant mountains hazed around her like a mirage. Maybe that was all they really were. Maybe none of this was real. Maybe she’d been captured on Yavin - 4, and now she was being tortured. She almost hoped that was the case.

When night began to fall, she found a few decently-sized boulders and curled up between them, wrapping herself in her blanket. There had been no sign of anything living since the k’lor’slugs in the cave, and she tried to be optimistic that nothing would bother looking for prey along a barren, open canyon rim. Even so, she fell asleep with her blaster in her hand. 

 

* * *

 

“I  _ can _ hurt you,” he’d spat at her during one of their more recent, unfortunate connections. “I didn’t want it to be this way, but if you think that I am too sentimental,  _ girl, _ then you are  _ mistaken.” _

“You are  _ already _ hurting me!” she cried, trying to break the bond, scrambling backwards across the empty training room. Kylo Ren’s dark eyes had darted around the room, almost calculating, and Rey’s heart had dropped at the realization that he could now see at least some of her surroundings when he managed to claw his way into her mind. _ “This _ is hurting me.”

Rage flashed across his expression then, as if he’d been monumentally affronted, and she pressed against the wall as he stalked towards her, tall and terrifying.  _ “This _ is  _ your _ game, scavenger.  _ Little Jedi, _ playing hide-and-seek, running from who you were  _ meant _ to be.”

His gloved fingers wrapped around her jaw and he shoved her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze; he looked for all the world like a man unhinged, and she had tried to harness the Force, to break the connection or to push him away, but her thoughts raced along with her speeding heart and she found that she could not. It all felt too convincingly  _ real, _ too physical, and she could not convince herself to turn aside her fear, or even to channel her anger.

There was a fresh cut across his forehead, and he smelled of blood and ash, and she shouldn’t care -  _ shouldn’t care _ \- but she felt a traitorous twinge of worry for the Dark Knight all the same.  Purple circles underlined his eyes, and Rey could practically see the bluish tinge of his veins through his pallid skin. Her fingers pressed against his tunic as she tried to shove him away, but he had only moved closer, his unkempt hair brushing against her forehead as he leaned down.

“I will end this,” he said, and she felt his fingers tremble as his grip tightened, a surprisingly childlike look of fear in his eyes. “I will end this, and you will never leave my side again.” And then, as they both stared at each other, poised in apprehension, his voice broke as he asked,  _ “Why  _ are you running, Rey?”

She’d explained away the bruises on her chin the next day as a training mishap, channeling all of her dark, twisting guilt at the fact that she  _ wanted _ to see him again into her efforts to ensure that she  _ wouldn’t.  _

 

* * *

 

Two days out from the tavern, the canyon she’d been following began to level out to flatland, and she spotted six towering shapes in the distance, with what appeared to be a mountain range springing up from the rock behind them. It was as good a target as any, and it seemed to be along her original trajectory, so she kept going, somehow resisting the urge to drain the last few sips of water from her canteen. 

It seemed as though they grew no closer as she walked, and the dry, cracked flatland began to feel endless. A nagging sense of realism told her that she should’ve collapsed long ago, but  _ something _ kept pushing her forward, urging her to find some sort of miraculous salvation. 

She heard a high-pitched shrieking in the distance that night as the sun fell below the horizon, unable to discern whether it was of some sentient creature or a beast, half-convinced that she was only imagining it in the first place. Rey curled tighter into a ball against the rocky outcropping that provided her some shelter from the night wind, shaking and faint. 

Her dreams were haunted by memories of the Darkness she’d found on Ahch-To, the way that it had called out to her, had drawn her close with the promise of giving her something that she so desperately  _ needed. _ When she woke at dawn, she felt a bit more clear-headed, more determined, and she choked down another ration bar before setting out once again, something deep inside of her insisting that she  _ must _ reach her destination before nightfall. 

As the grueling hours passed, she finally began to feel as if she were making some progress, and the massive shapes became more clear; what she had originally taken for some sort of pillars or towers, Rey now realized were gigantic, vaguely-humanoid statues, ancient and crumbling. The closer she drew towards the entrance to the valley, the more her skin crawled, though she did not understand why. 

_ There is so much sadness here,  _ she realized, drawing her blaster with a shaking hand as she thought she saw a flash of a shadow just beyond one of the statues.  _ So much death, and pain. Hatred.  _

It was just an abandoned city, she assured herself, just like the old settlement she’d discovered three days back, though this place.... It was ancient. She could  _ feel _ it in her very bones, even though she tried to keep herself removed from the Force, some instinct warning her that she should not be here. 

And yet… and yet, it seemed to call to her, all the same. Where else could she go? There was nothing to be found behind her. These ruins were her only hope. The Force twisted and fluctuated around her, and she felt her stomach turn, though she tried to ignore it, tried to pretend that her barriers weren’t beginning to fade and crack. 

The sun was swollen and orange in the late-afternoon sky by the time Rey finally reached the foot of the first statue, and she paused for a moment to take stock of her surroundings, panting for air as a heavy weight pressed against her chest. Sheer rock cliffs guarded the sloping, narrow entrance to the valley, though it seemed to widen in the distance. She could make out a massive pyramid along the valley’s back wall, and dozens of other crumbling stone structures and monuments were scattered across the rocky floor and carved out of the walls, pockmarked and scarred.

The place had been bombed, she realized,  _ heavily _ bombed, and it looked like it had happened many times over. Why would anyone bother to fight for such a miserable, lonely place on an infertile planet, Rey couldn’t begin to imagine - but then, people claimed that Jakku had been covered in forests and oceans, eons ago. Maybe this place had been rich with resources at one point in history, as well.

She moved further into the mouth of the valley, feeling terribly vulnerable, for there were innumerable vantage points for any enemies or predators to take, and she had no one to watch her back. Briefly, her mind flitted to Kylo Ren, how perfectly they’d fallen into sync onboard the  _ Supremacy, _ and she bit her cracked lip.  _ He isn’t here now, and you should be thankful for it. _

Something was stirring around her, she could feel it, and though she tried to tell herself that it was only the harsh desert winds sliding along the caves and crevices, she could almost swear that she heard whispers, all mocking and cold, all different. 

_ “Jedi…” _

_ “Lonely little girl.” _

_ “Insignificant.” _

_ “Why are you running, Rey?” _

_ “Where is your Master, little Padawan?” _

Clutching the blaster close to her chest, Rey moved on, pushing back instinctively against her terror, the Force clambering around her, calling for her to do something, to fight against this unseen threat. A rock clattered somewhere above her, and she quickly jerked to the side to find the cave that it had fallen from, her hand shaking violently as she tried to aim. Nothing happened, nothing came pouncing down on her, and she practically sobbed in relief, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. 

“Scavenger,” came a toneless voice, gravelly and metallic, a voice she  _ knew, _ and she slowly turned back to her former path, nearly paralyzed with dread, to find Kylo Ren blocking her way, his face hidden behind his mask. She hadn’t seen the mask since…

Her stomach lurched violently, black spots smattering across the edges of her vision. “Stop,” she demanded, pointing her blaster at his chest, her finger hovering over the trigger.  _ It can’t be real, it can’t be. If he was here, I would feel him, I would know. It can’t be. _

He did not move. “Take off your mask,” Rey rasped, throat straining from the effort.  _ “Take it off.” _

The figure moved slowly, his thumbs sliding under the mask, a faint hissing sound reaching her ears as he pressed the release and lifted the helmet, wild, dark hair spilling free. His face was blank, and his eyes -  _ oh, Kriff -  _ he only had empty sockets for  _ eyes,  _ and a sob tore from her throat as she squeezed the trigger, desperate to make this horrible, horrible  _ thing _ disappear. 

The crack of the blaster bolt hitting the stone behind him echoed around her, and he flickered from existence, teeth bared in an unpleasant smile. 

“Oh,  _ Force,” _ she gasped, leaning heavily against one of the nearby stone pillars for support, on the verge of fainting, her hands and her feet beginning to faintly tingle. She wasn’t sure if it was from the dehydration or the panic, and the choking heaviness in the air settled around her, suffocating and thick.  _ “Kriff.”  _

And as she retched and slid down the against the column, trying to quell her churning emotions, she entirely missed the glowing red eyes watching her from the darkness of the cave above. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for your comments <3


	4. Chapter 4

“The bounty on her head is more than for anyone else in the Resistance. Why is that, Kylo Ren?”

His lips turned down in a sour frown. _Stupid questions, pointless questions._ What did it matter? But then, the unignorable quietness at the other end of the bond was crushing, and even _he_ could use a distraction. “Are your feelings hurt, traitor?”

“I’m just curious why some _girl_ from Jakku is at the top of your official hit list.”

“And why you’d bother coming all this way hunting after her yourself? You’d think that the man who wants to rule the entire galaxy would have bigger things to deal with.”

Kylo Ren studied the girl who’d spoken; she looked as angry as the rest of them, but there was also some genuine confusion there. They were clearly waiting for him to say something, and he took his time, noting the way the girl angled herself towards the traitor. _Ah,_ he thought, the tiniest hint of a smile in his mind, though it did not reach his lips, _jealousy._ It might not be there _yet,_ not in all of its glory, but it would be easy enough to kindle.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, locking eyes with FN-2187. “What _does_ make her so worth chasing?”

The girl’s brow furrowed in confusion, and she glanced back to the traitor at her side, who now seemed very close to losing his temper. “You are _never_ getting your filthy hands on Rey,” he spat, pointing an accusing finger at the shield that divided them. “Come on, Rose. Let’s go.”

Before he exited the observation room, however, he turned back, almost as an afterthought. “Keep this up, _Supreme Leader._ If you don’t start answering some questions, they’re going to send in more _qualified_ interrogators.”

Kylo Ren closes his eyes, fighting the dual urges to either upend his cot or to collapse on it. _Anger and exhaustion._ It was not a pleasant combination.

He knew what _qualified_ interrogators meant, because he _was_ one, and while it was what they should’ve already done days ago, some part of him was almost… surprised. He hadn’t expected Leia Organa to give her approval for him to be tortured, somehow; it seemed so…

Well, he wasn’t really certain _what_ it seemed like, but he still remembered the distant, troubled look in her eyes when he’d sat in her lap as a child, when she’d told him about her time aboard the _Death Star._ He’d thought her so beautiful, then, so _brave,_ craving her approval like a flower craved sunlight. But the sunlight wasn’t where Kylo Ren belonged.

_Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to._

She wouldn’t kill him - not while he was unarmed and a prisoner, at least - he _was_ certain of that. It was foolish of her to cling to even the faintest shards of sentimentality, but she _would,_ and that was why he would ultimately win this war. He wondered if she would turn a blind eye if one of her other allies gave the order for his death; she’d always been so fiercely wedded to her cause, more mothering towards the New Republic than she’d ever been to Ben Solo.

Kylo Ren’s fists clenched.

They were lying to him about the girl, they _had_ to be; a Force-signature as powerful as hers, as _alluring,_ simply couldn’t wink out of existence on its own unless she was dead, and she _couldn’t_ be dead.

She couldn’t be dead.

Eyes fixed unblinking on the ray shield, he pictured her as he’d seen her last, delirious and fading, peering up at him with eyes full of fear. Fear and _guilt_ and desperation _,_ for she knew that where she went, he would follow, and death came with him.

_Desperation._

The few scattered prisoners that the First Order had taken on Yavin - 4 had been interrogated and subsequently executed. He’d done it himself - they were worthless, they knew _nothing,_ and he was tired of playing games with the Resistance, tired of allowing them to think that they had any right to negotiate with him and his new galactic order.

And then she’d disappeared, and he’d walked right into their hands of his own free will.

_Desperation._

 

* * *

 

Without the Force to sustain him, Kylo Ren could not avoid succumbing to the sickening pull of slumber, dragging his resisting mind into the darkness.

When he slept again, _she_ was there, but it was not _really_ her, not the girl that he _wanted._ This latest dream-version of her was beautiful and cruel and _vicious,_ and she stood over him, his own lightsaber crackling and spitting crimson light as she held it so that the point hovered just _barely_ above his heart.

“Do it,” he said. “It’s the only way you’ll ever stop me.”

“I could,” she replied. “Don’t think that I couldn’t. You’d deserve it.”

“I know.”

She thrust the blade downwards, and he choked as he felt it sear into his skin, starting awake with a gasp. The walls of his cell swam and blurred around him, and he pushed his tangled hair back from his face, trying to reign in the disorientation and nausea.

This place was beginning to make his skin crawl; he needed to get away, and soon. The Resistance was clearly not going to be of any use to him, and having no access to the Force meant that even if she _did_ suddenly reappear, he would not be able to do anything about it.

It had been foolish to come here, _foolish_ to hope that he might find answers so easily. He took a few deep, steadying breaths, peering from under the fringe of his hair at the room beyond the ray shield. Even without the Force, he could sense an unwanted presence, and he grit his teeth as he pushed himself to his feet.

Leia Organa stepped close to the shield, tilting her head to look up at him; she’d always seemed so _tall,_ when he was a child, so incredibly larger-than-life. Even now, he sometimes forgot how small she was, how _weak._

“Bad dreams, Ben?”

He grimaced. How _dare_ she speak to him like that, like she had when he was young, when he was still nothing more than _Ben Solo?_ “Why are you here?”

“Why do you think?” She paused for a moment, watching him carefully. “You can’t keep doing this forever, you know. Whatever you’re looking for, you won’t find it here.”

Kylo Ren _hated_ her for the slight hint of sadness in her eyes, hidden though it was behind a solid veneer of resolve.  “This is the end, _General._ The last traces of the New Republic will swear loyalty to _me,_ or they will be destroyed. I _will_ bring balance. You’ve failed.”

“The Light will never fail, and the Resistance will endure as long as hope remains in the galaxy.”

 _“Hope?”_ His temper snapped then, brittle and sharp, and he stalked nearer to the shield; she did not flinch. “What good is the New Republic’s _hope?_ What use was your _hope_ when the New Republic became just as corrupt as the Galactic Republic? Where use was it when your _Populist_ senators allowed the law and order the Empire established to dissolve? Where was it, _General,_ when you restored almost _total_ sovereignty to some of the _worst_ systems in the galaxy?”

Her lips thinned, and Kylo Ren pressed on, voice dropping. “When you left children starving. Abandoned. _Forgotten,_ because they were not important. Because they had no _value.”_

“Establishing democracy on a galactic scale takes time.”

 _“Democracy.”_ He scoffed. “Empty promises.”

She’d always been good at making empty promises.

“What do you want me to say, Ben?” He _knew_ she was saying it just to unsettle him; she knew Ben Solo was long dead. “That I should’ve been a better leader? A better mother?”

Kylo Ren’s jaw clenched. “I want you to say that you _surrender,”_ he snapped. “Surrender and give up the location of the girl, and the First Order will be merciful.”

“You aren’t in a position to be making demands, are you?”

“How long do you think the rest of your allies will stand by you, when they’ve seen what I do to the planets that resist First Order rule? The few that remain are only with you because of old loyalties from _decades_ ago. They will fall away like sand in the wind.”

“The Resistance has more support than you seem to realize, _Supreme Leader.”_

His fists clenched; it was so _infuriating,_ that she could never, _never_ simply admit that she was _wrong._ “This is pointless. We are done here.”

He turned away, and after a few long, painful moments, he heard her leave the room. His shoulders trembled.

He’d given her _every_ opportunity to surrender, and she had refused.

He knew what he had to do.

 

* * *

 

The scavenger had wormed her way into every part of his brain, rooted so deeply into his unconscious mind that he knew he would never be free of her, even if she _was_ dead. Kylo Ren wished that he could claw her out, that he could tear every shred of her from his memory. The way her eyes looked when she turned to him so pleadingly, her small, lithe body as she dueled, her terrible fierceness… it was a torment.

_A weakness._

And now, she was gone.

Kylo Ren’s darker tendencies had always gravitated towards violence; the burn of conquest, of causing _pain,_ had called out to him like a song, even as a child. It gave him a sense of control, of calm, soothing the chaos that had plucked at his mind for as long as he could remember.

But then there was the girl.

He wanted to control her, _yes_ \- to steer her towards her true potential, to her place at his side. But more than that, frighteningly enough, Kylo Ren wanted to _touch_ her. He wanted to hold her, to dig his fingers into her warm, sunny skin, to _bruise_ her.

He’d wanted to worship her.

And she had betrayed him.

 

* * *

 

The more that their minds had connected, the more the girl had begun to feature in Kylo Ren’s dreams, on the rare occasions that he was unfortunate enough to succumb to sleep. They had taken a definitive turn after her she managed to escape his clutches on H’ratth, and Kylo had found himself shamefully haunted by the sight of her as she’d appeared through their bond, sprawled out on her small bed, loose-limbed and peaceful.

He wanted to see her like that again.

It was a lure - a temptation, a promise of _something_ to soothe what was left of his soul.

 _If_ there was anything left.

Really, he supposed that he wasn’t overly _bothered_ by the state of his soul - he just wanted to feel _in-control_ of himself, but the more he tried to grasp at some semblance of stability, the more it seemed to slip from his fingertips. He was at the helm of a successful militarized takeover of the entire galaxy… he couldn’t afford any mistakes. Not now.

Mistakes like the one he’d made in coming to this worthless Resistance base, chasing after a little _nobody_ from Jakku. A girl who’d rejected him.

A girl he’d chase to the ends of the galaxy.

In some dreams, he would snap, full of frustration and jealousy, losing control and overpowering her, kissing her roughly with his hand around her throat. In others, he’d dare to dream that she came to him willingly, watching him with adoring eyes, eyes filled with love and lust and _acceptance._ It was these dreams that he despised the most.

He awoke from yet another nightmare, his nerves raw, dark clothes clinging to the thin sheen of sweat covering his skin; she had been holding onto him as if he were her last hope in the world, sobbing, while dust and sand churned around them, red as dried blood. She had turned to ash, then, and Kylo Ren had stood there, frozen helpless and hopeless, as the whirlwind consumed him.

Too sick to care if they saw him weak, he rushed behind the semi-transparent privacy screen that shielded the tiny ‘fresher in his cell and vomited. Dropping his head back to rest against the screen, he closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slowly through his nose.

_Focus._

His passion had no purpose if he could not focus. Neither of his masters had been very helpful in that regard; there was something in him that demanded to burn untamed, like wildfire. It was a trait that had gotten many Dark Side users killed in the past. Kylo did not intend to be one of them.

This dream… it _meant_ something. He wasn’t entirely certain _how_ he knew, but he did. It had to be the Force, pushing him towards her, even though she was far out of his reach. It _had_ to be.

Pressing his fingers against his eyes, he tried to drive away the deep, throbbing pain rooted somewhere behind his eye sockets. The days of isolation and scattered questioning had become a blur; he _had_ to find out how long he’d been there, and how long he had left before the Knights of Ren arrived to set him free. Otherwise, he might lose hold of whatever thin grasp on sanity he still held.

He was graced by the presence of three of his least-favorite beings in existence not long after: the traitor FN-2187, the overly-eager girl who seemed to cling to him, and the pilot. Kylo suspected that they had seen that his strength was lessening and had decided to strike while he was vulnerable.

Really, he would’ve done the same.

Tamping down the aching in his bones and the stinging burn behind his eyes, Kylo Ren pushed himself to his feet; it did not matter that they had seen him weak, as long as they knew that his weakness would not stop him. No, his weaknesses would be _used,_ rooted out, burned up.

Destroyed.

“You listen to me, you greasy-looking _svaper,”_ Dameron began without preamble, “We want to know why the First Order just released a HoloNet broadcast announcing the _peaceful surrender_ of the Naboo system. There is no way in _hell_ that that Naboo went down without a fight.”

Kylo blinked, his tired mind - always occupied with thoughts of _the girl -_ taking a few moments to catch up. He blinked again. Then, he smirked; had Hux, worthless bastard that he was, _actually_ managed to do something useful? Perhaps he should give him the promotion that he so desperately craved, after all. The man _was_ remarkably good at propaganda.

“How should I know, when I’ve been trapped in here for weeks?” It was a hazarded guess, for he feared that anything more direct would tip them off to how desperately he wanted to know the true length of his captivity.

“Exactly!” the dark-haired girl cried out, “Why would the First Order make such a big move when their _Supreme Leader_ has been locked up for over two weeks! Don’t they care that you’re _gone?”_

“Rose -” FN-2187 began, putting a cautioning hand on her shoulder.

“No! I want to know why he’s _here!_ Why do we need him, if the First Order is going to keep marching on, taking over peaceful planets? Why isn’t anyone getting any information from him? This is _pointless.”_ She waved her hand at the ray shield, tears streaking down reddened cheeks.

_Pathetic._

And in her weakness, she had given him exactly what he needed. Three weeks were almost up, and soon, his Knights would arrive, and he would be free to harness the Force and raze this vile place to the ground.

“Maybe you should ask your General to kill me,” he said tonelessly, locking away the bubble of excitement that sprang to life in his chest at the thought of holding his saber again, and all three turned to stare at him. “A public execution is always good for morale.”

It was a threat, a promise of what awaited them, and Dameron, at least, seemed to realize it. “You’ve taken over the network, haven’t you?” he said, eyes narrowing. “The _entire_ kriffing HoloNet.”

 _Technically,_ he supposed Hux deserved credit for that, though he _had_ been the one to give the orders. He’d never expected for it to be taken care of so quickly, though he supposed that there were few Republic systems left now with the time or resources to maintain the communication grid.

Kylo Ren’s day was becoming marginally better. “The galaxy deserves to know the truth. The First Order brings peace, lawfulness. Bounty.” His eyes glittered. “Or destruction. They may make an informed decision.”

“An _informed decision?_ Based on what - First Order _lies?”_

“No. Based on the _truth._ They will submit, or they will be destroyed. This is justice. _Order.”_

“It’s evil,” the girl said, tears in her eyes. _“You._ You are _evil.”_

He might’ve laughed then, had he not felt so horrifically ill; it was as if they simply could not conceptualize the idea that he _really didn’t care._ All of this posturing and whining did _nothing_ to change his convictions - if anything, it only solidified them. He ached for burning and for _blood._

He liked to imagine how much pain she would feel when he killed the traitor. Would the scavenger feel it, if he slaughtered her friends? If she _was_ still out there somewhere, would the ripple in the Force bring her running back, desperate and maddened beyond reason in her grief? Cocking his head, he considered the idea; noble little Jedi _loved_ to seem self-sacrificing. Maybe he just needed to set a trap and properly bait it.

They tried to question him further after that, demanding flight codes, and schematics, attack plans… anything, really. They were desperate, he knew; the fact that they kept reiterating that he was in no position to make demands just reinforced the fact that they knew how little power they really held over him. He refused to engage, and they eventually gave up and left.

Kylo Ren sat on his cot, shoulders hunched, wondering if that had been the Resistance’s last-ditch effort to get him to talk freely. It was true that there was no point in keeping him around if he wasn’t providing any useful information, especially since his captivity apparently had not slowed the First Order’s progress as they’d doubtlessly hoped. Torture would come next.

He welcomed it.

 

* * *

 

“Kaydel.”

“Solo.”

She regarded him with a flat, almost-bored expression, slowly blowing a bubble, and he returned it, determined to hide the fact that the name hit him like a punch to the gut. Those _stupid_ twin buns were still apparently her style of choice - a style she’d picked up when the Organa-Solo family had first visited Dulathia on a diplomatic tour, when they’d both still worshipped the myth that was the heroic _Princess Leia._

Back then, back when he wanted nothing more than to become a famous pilot and explore the farthest reaches of the galaxy, the fact that she’d always called him _‘Solo’_ had filled his heart with glee. Now, he took it as an insult, a twist of the knife. She probably knew that.

Kylo Ren’s fists clenched by his side. Even when they were small children, Kaydel Ko Connix had known how to get under his skin. He hadn’t realized that she was still alive. He suddenly wished that she _wasn’t._

Once he was rid of the last remnants of the Jedi Order and the Resistance, he’d have to start purging the galaxy of anyone who’d ever known Ben Solo. Ben Solo was a _child,_ peppered with fears and weaknesses and doubts. Kylo Ren was a legend - a _monster_ \- infallible and resolute.

That was how it had to be.

“Still addicted to brightgum, I see.”

The bubble popped. “Keeps me awake. Tastes better than caf.”

This was too casual, too bizarrely _familiar;_ he couldn’t stand it. “Why are you here?”

“I have a question for you.”

 _Of course._ His ire spiked, barely-contained. “You’re here in a pathetic attempt to get me to turn back? To regret what I’ve done? Who I am?”

“No.” Chewing her brightgum thoughtfully, she watched him for another moment, seemingly seeking to reconcile the man before her with the boy she’d once known. “No, this question is for the _Jedi Killer_ Kylo Ren.”

“Ask it, then.”

“When the First Order began hunting down and eliminating Force-sensitives, they never came for me. Why? I was an easy target - a _known_ target. Or, at least, I should’ve been. You knew.”

“You’ll be happy to hear that your Force-sensitivity was too weak to be _bothered_ with, Connix.”

There was another pause, and Kylo could feel his headache returning in full-force, not that it had ever _really_ left in the first place. “Maybe,” she said finally. “I wasn’t _promising_ enough to be chosen to go with you to the Temple, after all. Like you wanted.” Her gum popped again, and his entire body tensed.

_Too many memories. Get rid of her._

“And a Force-sensitive is easy enough to overlook,” Connix continued, “but one with ties to the Galactic Senate and a known loyalty to the leader of the Resistance? The daughter of the former governor of an Imperial planet? That seems _sloppy,_ Solo.”

“You’re right.” He leaned down slightly, bringing their eyes closer to level. “An oversight. You should be _dead.”_ If the clipped, biting words stung, she didn’t show it, and he straightened. “It doesn’t matter. You’re slated for execution, anyway. You and the rest of the Rebel scum.”

“Let me tell _you_ something.” She stepped closer to the shield, uncomfortably close, as if she thought that she could somehow beat him at his own game. “There is _no_ difference between Ben Solo and Kylo Ren. _This_ is _you._ This is who you _always_ were.”

He sneered. “Enjoy my captivity while you can, _Kaydel._ It won’t last long.”

Something flashed across her features then, almost too-quickly to notice, and he wished that he could simply tap into her mind. She turned and walked away, unhurried and seemingly unbothered. _Calculated._

He hated her.

 

* * *

 

The scavenger had noticed when his dreams had begun to… shift. He suspected that hers had, as well. Either that, or they were no longer inhabiting separate minds when they dreamed, hopelessly tangled and tethered together even in unconsciousness.

When they met though the bond again for the first time after his more… _physical_ dreams had begun, the girl had been red-faced and accusatory.

“How _dare_ you?” she’d spat, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. “Showing me these _vile_ things, after _everything_ that’s happened. _How dare you?”_

 _Vile,_ was he? The fact that the thought of being touched by him was so abhorrent to her cut deep, though Kylo Ren would never admit it.

He didn’t care.

Why _should_ he?

He could take whatever he wanted.

“I’m not showing you _anything,_ scavenger. Whatever you’re seeing is coming from your own damned mind, or from you leaching into my head through the bond. _Uninvited.”_

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, just like they always did now when he cited the bond as the cause for anything, as if _he_ could control it. As if he’d _wanted_ it, wanted to be latched to someone like _her._

But strangely enough, while his anger and his resentment were still there, burning and licking at his heart, Kylo Ren had not lashed out. Instead, exhausted and perhaps hoping, foolishly, that she’d _finally_ admit that he was a shadow she’d never escape, he’d reached out a bared hand.

“Don’t be ashamed,” he’d said. “These feelings… _urges_ that you have. I can help you.”

She’d turned crimson. “I don’t have _urges_ for _you.”_

“Ah.” His hand dropped. “Denial. A classic Jedi trait.”

“No. It can’t go that way.”

“It can.” He inclined his head. “And if I want it to, it will.”

“If you want to earn another _kriffing_ scar, maybe.” Though, despite her bravado, she’d backed away from him as she’d said it, urging the more feral part of him to stalk forward after her.

Always in pursuit.

But when he had shoved her against the wall and finally - _finally_ \- kissed her, she hadn’t even _tried_ to push him away.

She’d been afraid. He could see it in her eyes, sense it through the bond, practically _taste_ it… but he had been afraid, too. There was no doubt that she could feel it. Maybe that was why she stayed entirely still, her fingernails digging into his skin as she held his wrists in an almost painfully-tight grip, neither pulling him closer nor pushing him further away.

It was a practically _chaste_ sort of thing; Kylo Ren had worried, in that moment, that anything more might shatter them both into thousands of tiny shards, brittle and sharp. As he leaned back, hands still cradling her face - _gently,_ this time - he searched her wide, dark eyes for something other than terror, or anger, or _regret…_

All of the things that were to be expected. All of the things that he deserved.

Her nails dug more fiercely into his skin, and that was when he saw it: _longing._

_Don’t be afraid. I feel it, too._

“Rey.”

Her lips parted, a shaking breath quickly inhaled. Whatever she planned to say, Kylo would never know, because the bond suddenly severed, leaving him holding nothing but air. She was gone.

 _Gone,_ again.

He’d fallen onto his bed, his hands over his eyes, trying to rein himself in before he was forced to go deal with _everything else,_ like bringing peace and order to the _entire galaxy._ There had been a diplomatic meeting he was supposed to attend, but after their connection’s abrupt ending, all he’d wanted to do was kill something. Or _many_ somethings.

Kriff, she had the _worst_ timing.

The pain and anger and confusion, he pushed down deep into his chest, feeding the fire that crackled and threatened to consume him. The fire kept him _alive,_ it was all that was left inside of him. Kylo Ren _was_ that fire.

The gloves he pulled on as he readied himself to leave the sanctuary of his room hid the tiny, crescent-shaped marks on his wrists, though he could feel them burning like a brand as he stalked down the halls of his flagship, his cloak billowing behind him, itching for _someone_ to step a toe out of line so that he could find an acceptable target for his frustrated rage.

Some part of him wished they would scar.

The girl had managed to block him out of her mind for two weeks after that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd we're back with another peek into the Supreme Leader's brain.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! Comments are always loved & appreciated <3


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